


Fire at Will

by lolitaxlolita



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Military AU, Reincarnation AU, bilbo wearing rubber gloves KINKY only not because he's a doctor sooooooo, god i hate to read AUs so why god do i keep writing them sorry everyone, kili is adorbs, oh yeah and fili too, the company are aborbs, thorin is a tough soldier dude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolitaxlolita/pseuds/lolitaxlolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Thorin Oakenshield woke up that morning, he remembered who he was. "</p><p>A modern military reincarnation AU wherein Thorin is the fearless leader of a company of loyal soldiers and suddenly remembers his past life.</p><p>NOTE: This is unfinished, and will probably remain that way. I sort of ran out of steam. It ends in a open-ended way that leaves the rest of the story up to the reader's imagination, so feel free to read and enjoy. If you would like to take this fic and run with it, be my guest. Just let me know so I can read it.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking

When Thorin Oakenshield woke up that morning, he remembered who he was.

            It did not hit him like a thunderbolt, or settle on him like a weight upon his shoulders. He opened his eyes and his life, the life he had _before,_ filtered back into his mind like grains of sand through a sieve.

            _The sun was breaking through the mist over Raven Hill and he saw an eagle swoop down to snatch a hellish bat from midair. He lay on the ice, bleeding, gasping, his eyes filled with the sight of Erebor in the shining late afternoon sun. His last glimpse of the kingdom he was dying for._

            Thorin blinked as the memory of his final moments of life surfaced, unbidden.

            _Gold, gold all aroundhim and jewelsjewels as far as he couldsee and it was hishishis MINE and once he found the Arkenstone he would be ohsocomplete everythingwouldbe perfectperfectperfect…_

He gasped as the sudden memories of his madness filled his mind. Dragon Sickness, they had said. The gold was cursed. How wrong they were.

            It had been Thorin’s line that had been cursed.

            He groaned, rolled over on the cot and stared unseeingly at the beige of his tent. He still had all of the memories that he had created in _this_ life, of course. Almost thirty two years old, Richard Oaks had been orphaned at eleven and had lived a great majority of his youth in foster care. Once he turned eighteen he had gotten two jobs and gone to vocational school (welding). Metalwork had always been a fascination, and he hoped that he could make a living doing something at least close to what he loved. He lived for several peaceful years on the income from marginally profitable welding gigs and metalwork that he sometimes sold at farmers markets and craft fairs. Then business started to go downhill. The war hit, and he was drafted. He had proved to be an excellent soldier, dutiful, loyal, and calm under fire. He had quickly risen in the ranks to be given the command of a small company of men. Twelve of them, to be exact.

            Cut to right now, laying on an army issue cot in army issue clothes in the middle of the desert with a nine millimeter under his pillow.

            Thorin let out a dry chuckle. Things never changed, did they? He had worked so hard, had _died_ to provide a peaceful future for his people. He and the other dwarves had waited millennia for the world to be remade, had helped to shape it into something wonderful.

            And now they were right back where they started. No peace. Only more hardship.

~~~~~~~~~~

            Thorin was trying to choke down breakfast when a hand fell heavily on his shoulder.

            “What’s up, Captain Thorn?” the young man said with a smile, leaning down into Thorin’s line of vision.

“Yeah, why so gloom and doom?” Another hand snatched his rations and a fair-haired young man darted just out of arm’s reach.

 _His beautiful, golden-haired nephew being held aloft, a blade aimed right at his heart. Thorin felt the presence of that blade, felt the heft of it as if it_ he _were the one in danger. His beautiful, proud nephew, pleading with him to go, to save himself._

_And when the blade was finally thrust into Fili’s heart, Thorin’s died as well._

“I thought I told you two not to call me that,” he grumbled. The younger members of their company had taken to calling him Captain “Thorn,” he supposed as a reference to his prickly personality. The older members of the company had soon picked it up as well until almost no one called him by his given name anymore.

The youngest member of the company looked utterly shocked. “What? Did you hear that brother? _When_ did he _ever_ tell us not to call him that?”

His blonde brother smirked and took a bite of his commander’s breakfast. “Not once since we’ve known him. Or, you know, every day. I can’t remember.”

_When Kili had shown up in the Halls of Mahal barely half an hour after his elder brother, it had destroyed Thorin. Both his sister-sons, killed for a home they never got to know. He gathered them to him as he hadn’t since they were small children, and held them close for a long while._

Now they were _here,_ fighting in in another war. And Thorin didn’t know if he could stand it.

“Really, now.” Fili leaned over the look him in the eye. “You do seem a bit more…downtrodden than usual. What’s wrong?”

Kili quit his japing and peered at his commander, concerned. Thorin had loved both boys _before_ he inexplicably got his memories back, and now… Both of them had short hair like Thorin’s, and Fili’s beard was shorter. But they were still his boys.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just tired,” he replied. Luckily they accepted that answer and went off to cause mischief elsewhere in the camp.

It was difficult for him that day, seeing familiar faces everywhere he went. He wanted to shake someone. _Don’t you see?!_ he wanted to shout at them. _It’s all the SAME. War, and death, and discord. For what. For WHAT?!_

He had so many regrets, so many things left unsaid and undone. He should have told his nephews how much he loved them. He should have told his friends Dwalin and Balin that he would have been lost without them. The dwarves that were not warriors but toymakers, tinkers miners, cooks, merchants, bankers. The good men who were not fighters but had faith in him and the quest. He should have told them all how much it meant to him.

And Bilbo…he should have told Bilbo…

But strangely, Bilbo was nowhere to be found in this new world. He searched the faces of his company, the other units in the base camp. No Bilbo. On one hand he was glad that Bilbo wasn’t involved in the war. Maybe he was safe at home, with his books and his armchair. But the thought that he wouldn’t even get a second chance with the one he…

It was almost too much to bear.

They were scheduled to supervise a shipment of much needed medical supplies to a field hospital thirty miles away. It would take a day there and a day back, and Thorin was hoping that the movement and work would take his mind off things.

The sun was hot when they started out, and by midday they were baking in their uniforms. They sat in the back of an armored Humvee, armed to the teeth with weapons and keeping a sharp eye on the rocky hills that they drove through. An ambush could (and had) come from anywhere, at any time. Behind them drove a truck loaded with the supplies, and behind that was another Humvee with the other half of the company.

“Thirteen,” Thorin muttered. “Bad luck.”

“What’s that laddie?” Balin asked. He was a seasoned old career soldier. Supposedly they had offered him a promotion several times but he had turned them all down, stating that he preferred to fight with his men, not sit back in an office and let others do the dirty work. Thorin had heard that they had even tried to force him into retirement, but naturally that had turned out badly for all involved.

“It’s nothing,” Thorin replied. “Just thinking that it would be good to have another man.” _With pointed ears and great hairy feet._

Balin chuckled. “Never took you for the superstitious sort.”

And Thorin never had been, really. He still didn’t quite know why he had agreed to detour to the Shire and pick up a fourteenth man. Gandalf had insisted, telling him that it would be more auspicious and that they needed someone sneaky whom Smaug wouldn’t be able to scent. Those were the reasons but…he never really knew why he had brought Bilbo along.

He had been glad of it in the end, though.

_The moon rose over the hills as he went out into Beorn’s garden. The rest of the company were fast asleep, with full bellies and contented smiles. It was good, after their most recent ordeal, to see his men comfortable, even if it was only for a handful of days._

_He wandered among the flowers and dark grass, thinking about what was to come. They would no doubt have to stop in Laketown for supplies, and Mahal knew there would be questions asked. Maybe they could skirt Laketown? But no, they would need food. Then they had the Lonely Mountain, and Smaug._

_But before that, they had Mirkwood to deal with. In the bright moonlight, Thorin could see the dark shape of the forest looming on the horizon. He shuddered. The thought of running into any elves in that fell place…of coming face to face with the weed-eater who had let his people suffer and die…he didn’t know what he would do. He could only hope that they would be able to get through the forest as quickly and quietly as possible to avoid attention._

_So inward were his thoughts and attention that he nearly trod on the small form of the hobbit, sitting among the sunflowers smoking his pipe._

_Thorin had been subtly avoiding the halfling for days. Thorin owed him a life debt, but he didn’t know how to act around the man anymore. After weeks of speaking to him as little as possible and thinking the little creature a complete disappointment, to be proved so utterly wrong…_

_He was ashamed, he supposed. But there was something else there that he couldn’t identify. A sort of nervous energy that he felt whenever he looked at Bilbo._

_Thorin cleared his throat. “And what are you doing up at this late hour, Master Baggins?”_

_The hobbit took his pipe from his mouth and glanced up at Thorin with a smile before returning his gaze out into the night._

_“Couldn’t sleep.” he chuckled. “Can you believe it? Our first night since Rivendell sleeping in safety, and I can’t get to sleep.”_

_Thorin settled next to Bilbo and looked out at the quiet garden. “It is not so strange,” he said softly. “It must have been a frightening experience for you.”_

_Bilbo hummed in the back of his throat and seemed lost in thought for a few minutes before replying._

_“Oddly enough, I was not frightened at all,” he said. His gaze turned inward, seeing something that Thorin could not. “One minute you were facing off against Azog, being thrown by that warg, and the next I was standing between you and Azog with my little elvish letter opener in my hand.” he gave Thorin a wry smile. “To be honest I wasn’t really thinking much. I just knew I had to get to you before…” he trailed off. They both knew that, had Bilbo not intervened, Thorin would almost certainly be dead now._

_Thorin was silent for a moment. “Master Baggins—”_

_“Bilbo.”_

_Thorin sucked in a breath. The hobbit couldn’t possibly know that, in dwarvish culture, first names were only used amongst family, the closest of friends, and lovers. For some reason that last word echoed in Thorin’s mind. Lovers._ Lovers. _He forgot what he had been about to say. As they sat in silence, Thorin’s thoughts were a jumbled mess._

Fool! _he berated himself. How could he not have seen this? Was he truly so blind to his own feelings? Perhaps he had been occupied with other matters, but to be so completely blindsided! Now that he looked back on their journey…the way he had circled and sized up the halfling upon their first meeting, the surge of fear when he looked up and saw Bilbo being held aloft in the Trolls’ grasp, about to be pulled apart. His jealousy at Bilbo’s obvious awe at the elves and Rivendell. The way he jumped from the cliff to a tiny ledge to grasp the halfling’s small, wet hand in his own and pull him up to safety. His sadness and feelings of betrayal when they emerged from the Goblin caves and he found that Bilbo had slipped away in the middle of the confusion. The warm feeling that spread through his chest when Bilbo had said, quite simply,_ “You don’t have a home. It was taken from you. And I will try to help you take it back, if I can.”

 _Trying to keep his heavy eyes open, trying to fight the pain as Bilbo stood in front of him, brandishing the elvish short-sword. Trying to_ Get Up _for he knew that Bilbo would surely die protecting him. Sinking into darkness, hearing Bilbo speak with a fierceness and bravery that Thorin hadn’t known the hobbit possessed._

“You shall not touch him.”

_Thorin had never been in love before, and so he hadn’t noticed it creeping up behind him._

_“Thorin? Are you all right?”_

_Thorin turned from his thoughts to see Bilbo looking at him with concern. His normally moss green eyes looked black in the dark of night, but the moonlight made his sandy hair gleam like the finest dwarvish gold._

_Thorin smiled. “I am well, Bilbo.”_

_~~~~~~~~~~_

            Lost in his thoughts, Thorin barely noticed when they approached the field hospital. Cursing his memories for distracting him from the job at hand, he leapt from the back of the Humvee, semi-automatic rifle in hand, and began to establish a perimeter so that the nurses could unload the supplies safely. Although there was a security fence around the compound, Thorin didn’t for a second believe that would deter the enemy.

            As the day wore on, he was unfortunately proven correct.

            The attack came out of bloody nowhere. One minute they were standing quietly in the hot sun as the workers unloaded supplies behind him, the next minute a missile hit one of the Humvees. The vehicle exploded violently, throwing several of his company back in the sand. Then the bullets started flying as soldiers in the rocks around the outside of the fence started shooting.

            Thorin yelled at his company to fall back and they dove behind the concrete ruins of a storehouse. The medics had run back into the field hospital at the explosion and he didn’t see any bodies around the supply truck. That was good. Quickly he took count of him men, and came up with eleven. He counted again and cursed. Scanning the area around the flaming ruins of the Humvee, he saw Ori lying motionless in the dirt.

            Though all of their ears were ringing from the force of the blast, he caught Dwalin’s eye and signaled the man to cover him.

            Signaling the others to wait, he made sure his rifle was loaded and darted out from behind the shelter, shooting as he went. Dwalin was right behind him as they made their way slowly, seeking cover behind the other Humvee and a wooden shed. Once again he signaled Dwalin to cover him before running the last few feet to where Ori lay in the open. His chest was covered with blood and his skin was a waxy grey. Quickly checking the young man’s vitals, Thorin felt a surge of relief to find a pulse. It wasn’t strong, but it was there.

            Bullets raining down on him, Dwalin shooting and shouting curses at their assailants, Thorin grasped Ori under the arms and dragged him back to the concrete storehouse.

            Once there, he set Ori down gently and his eyes darted around the compound, sizing up the situation. They needed to try to get to the field hospital. It was built like a bomb shelter and was designed for maximum security. Once they were inside, their attackers would either have to storm the compound (and Thorin doubted there were very many soldiers or they would have done that immediately after bombing the Humvee) or leave before reinforcements came. It was pointless to waste bullets shooting at a bomb shelter. Unfortunately, there was at least a hundred yards of open space between their hiding place and the door to the hospital.

            But they had no choice. As long as his company was out here in the open, they would be a target.

            Hastily signaling the others to form a protective circle, Thorin assigned Fili and Kili to carry Ori in the center. Rifles turned out, Thorin looked around at his company. They were a dirty, bloody mess, just as they had been on that fateful quest so long ago. But the eyes looking out of dirty faces shone with fierce determination. With _trust_ in their king.

            Some things never changed. Maybe this new world wasn’t what he had expected or hoped it would be. But he was _here_ , and he had people who needed him. And maybe this world was no better than the last, but there was love here.

            And maybe that was enough.

            Thorin took a deep breath and signaled them to move out. Bursting from their cover, guns blazing, Kili and Fili grasping Ori’s arms and legs (thank Mahal it wasn’t Bombur), they ran like hell towards the hospital. Thorin heard more than one of them screaming a battle cry, bullets rained down on their heads, sand blew in their eyes and then…

            Suddenly they were inside the hospital, the medics slamming the doors shut behind them. They stood there breathing heavily for a few minutes, listening to bullets bouncing off the thick doors. Then the gunshots ceased, and all was silent.

            “Do you have any casualties?” Thorin turned at the woman’s voice and was shocked to see that red-headed she-elf who had captured them in Mirkwood. Her fiery hair was pulled back in a bun at the base of her neck and she wore the armband of a medic, but he recognized her. In the Halls of Mahal, Kili had finally told him that he had been in love with her.

            _“…and how did she feel towards you?” Thorin asked. Being dead had given him a little perspective regarding the elves. The differences and feuds that had eaten him up in life seemed…petty now. Now he was faced with his heartsick young nephew, and he hurt to see the young dwarf so lost._

_Kili gave him a sad smile. “She cared for me too. I know it. If only…” he trailed off. Thorin knew what Kili had left unsaid. If only there were not so much bad blood between their races. If only they hadn’t both had a duty to their kings that came before matters of the heart. If only there had been more time. If only…_

_Thorin felt a swell of empathy for his sister-son and reached out to embrace him. Thorin had his own set of regrets and knew how the lad was feeling._

_“You will see her again,” Thorin said._

_Kili sighed into Thorin’s coat. “How can you be so sure?”_

_Thorin pulled back and cupped Kili’s cheeks, making sure that he had his nephew’s eyes._

_“You will see her again,” he said. He meant it as a promise._

_Kili’s eyes filled with unshed tears and he hid his face in Thorin’s shoulder._

            “I said, do you have any casualties?” Tauriel said more loudly, no doubt assuming that they had experienced hearing damage from the explosion.

            Drawn from his reverie, Thorin took her to Ori. She knelt at the young man’s side, checking his vitals and examining the nasty looking chest wound that was still bleeding copiously.

            “Can you help him?” Dori asked, wringing his hands. Nori looked on, his brow furrowed into a frown.

            The woman sat back on her heels and looked up at them all. “I’m just triage. We need to have our CMO look at him immediately.” standing, she said something into her radio and then called for a stretcher.

            Thorin looked around at the hospital. There had been a serious battle not two weeks ago nearby, and the place was still full to the brim with casualties. Medics rushed this way and that, carrying stretchers, bandages, water. The place looked a madhouse to Thorin. After a couple of minutes he recognized that there was some level of order to it that no doubt made perfect sense to those who worked there but seemed haphazard to him.

            His gaze turned back to his company, checking to make sure they were all well and accounted for. When his eyes fell on Kili, he froze.

            Kili stood stock still, his eyes on Tauriel as she directed the medics to carefully place Ori on the stretcher. His face looked pale and stricken, as if he had seen a ghost. As Thorin watched, his eyes slowly tore themselves from the woman and drifted over the company. When they got to Fili, he went paler if possible and reached out to grasp his brother’s hand.

            Fili absently squeezed Kili’s hand and turned to his brother. Seeing the expression on his face, he immediately frowned with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he said, looking Kili over for injuries.

            “Fili…” Thorin heard Kili breathe.

            Fili’s frown deepened. “What did you say? Did you hit your head when the Humvee exploded?” He started to motion over a medic but Kili stopped him.

            “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Nevermind.”

            Then his eyes went to Thorin and widened. Thorin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It seemed like Kili was…remembering? But Thorin supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. If _he_ could remember everything, so could the others. In fact, he hadn’t given much thought as to _why_ he had remembered his past life, or why the others hadn’t.

            There would be time for talk later, when Ori was out of danger. Right now, all Thorin could do was smile at his sister-son and give him a reassuring nod. Kili’s eyes widened a little more at the realization that his uncle remembered as well, but before he could say a word Ori was being carried off and the company faithfully followed. Thorin hung back a bit and walked by Kili, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze.

            Ori was settled in a bed and a couple of medics set up a privacy screen. The company crowded around his bed, making it difficult for anyone to move. Tauriel finally herded them out of the makeshift exam room and ordered them to wait by the wall where they wouldn’t be in the way. Thorin didn’t like taking his eyes off a wounded member of his company, but begrudgingly agreed that it was difficult to examine a man when there were twelve people crowded around his bedside.

            A nurse came by with water for them all, which they gulped down gratefully. As the nurse turned away to get them some more, Thorin caught his arm to ask about what was happening with Ori. The man looked busy and harried, but he must have taken pity on Thorin.

            “They found debris from the blast in his chest. It’s…bad,” he said, and although Thorin winced he appreciated the man’s honesty. “But we’ve seen men worse off recover,” he quickly assured the stricken company. “Our CMO is the chief of surgery here. He’s the best there is. If anyone can save him, it’s Major Baggins.”

            Thorin froze, feeling as though someone had replaced the blood in his veins with ice water. _Baggins?_ Kili was immediately at Thorin’s side, and Thorin gratefully leaned on his young nephew for support as his legs turned weak.

            “Oh, there he is. He must have been examining your man personally,” the nurse remarked as he walked away from the group.

            Thorin’s eyes whipped around to the screen around Ori’s bed just as a man in an army uniform emerged, peeling off bloody gloves and throwing them in a biohazard bin. His hair was short, but still the color of summer hay. And when he raised his eyes to Thorin’s they were still the deep green of a mossy pond. They still penetrated right through Thorin to get at his soul and sent a shiver down his spine. There was no doubt in Thorin’s mind.

            He was looking at Bilbo Baggins.         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thar. This chapter ended up being longer than I expected, but I couldn’t stop until Bilbo showed up. I don’t plan on this being a super long fic, but then again I’m not sure where it’s going so for all I know it could turn into a monster. Just a few things:
> 
> *This fic was inspired by a piece of fan art I happened to run across on Pinterest last week of soldier!bilbo bandaging the arm or soldier!thorin. But now I can’t find it. If you find it, let me know. thnx  
>  EDIT::::: The lovely and talented and way awesome Corvinnia found it for us so here ya go:  
>  http://myeviltwincorvinnia.tumblr.com/post/117656267149/evankart-dwarves-in-the-hobbit-modern-au  
>  Please visit her tumblr and worship her kthnx
> 
> *I’ve been trying to kind of work people in, like Tauriel and stuff. If you have a suggestion for a character I should include or the context they should pop up under, let me know.
> 
> *Bilbo’s eyes: Being too lazy to get off my lazy ass and check, I can nevertheless be fairly certain that Tolkien never specified Bilbo’s eye color in any of the books. (Please call me out on this if I’m wrong). The talented and adorable Martin Freeman’s eyes are blue (I’m pretty sure? Again: lazy ass). I’ve read fic where Bilbo’s eyes are blue, brown, golden-ish, green, and rainbow sparkle colored (maybe that last one was an acid trip). So anyway, I’ve always pictured Bilbo’s eyes as being kind of a dark green when I read the Hobbit and LOTR so…there ya go. If you’ve got a problem with it, go talk to a mirror.
> 
> *This war is kind of vague and unspecified. If you want to think Iraq or Afghanistan, go ahead. I didn’t want to go into specifics. This fic doesn’t have much to do with my personal feelings about war. I am firmly opposed to war in all its forms, but I have a great respect for our brave soldiers. So if anything in this fic doesn’t jive with your personal views, I hope you can still enjoy the fic. If not, stop reading. But please, no nasty reviews.
> 
> *I teach kindergarten. I have never been, nor known anyone in the military. So therefore, most of the military junk in this fic is total crap and stuff that I just picked up from movies and TV shows. Seriously, I think some Star Trek terms might have gotten mixed in there. I found myself typing “ensign” a couple times on accident. So please just breeze over my bullshit and enjoy the fic anyways. It’s not super important to the plot anyways (she tells herself). But, if you are the kind of person that gets twitchy when there are inaccurate details in fic, PM me or leave a review with the stuff that needs to be fixed. If it’s reasonable (and I don’t have to like, rewrite the whole damn chapter) I’ll do my best to correct it. There shouldn’t be any Middle-Earth inaccuracies, (other than my AU meddling), as I’m pretty straight up hardcore with the middle-earth history in yo face. Except for minor things like, say THE COLOR OF BILBOS EYES WTF
> 
> Yeezus, this AN is longer than the fic. I’ll get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Kthnxbai


	2. Dreaming

            _He was alone, and surrounded by darkness. After his interrogation at the hands of the traitorous elf-king, he had been discarded in Mirkwood’s dungeons to rot. Were the others alive? Some days he wondered if_ he _still lived. Had they died in the Misty Mountains? In the goblin caves? Had Azog finally destroyed the last of the line of Durin and this was merely some twisted afterlife wherein he still believed himself alive? These were the dark circles that his mind wandered through during the long and lonely days he spent in his cell._

_Until one day—_

_A shaft of light piercing the gloom. The door opening. But…no one there?_

_But then the hobbit suddenly appeared, and Thorin thought him a sight sweeter than a silmaril. He was thinner, and dirty, and he still had cobwebs on his clothes from their encounter with the spiders weeks before._

_But he was_ here. _And alive. Thorin almost did not trust his own eyes. He wanted to weep with relief, wanted to laugh, wanted to ask a million questions. But he did none of these things. He could not bring himself to move or speak, for fear that this small hope would die._

_“Thorin, come. We have to go quickly, before the guards awaken.” Bilbo stood at the door to his cell, hand outstretched. When Thorin did not move immediately the hobbit stretched out further. “Thorin, come,” he repeated softly, as if speaking to a wild animal._

_And Thorin supposed that was an accurate description. Having been held in a cell for weeks, with little food and no way to keep clean, he was sure that his hair and beard were a mess, his eyes no doubt wild._ Don’t sit there like some fool dwarfling, _Thorin thought._ Are you King under the Mountain or aren’t you?

            _He reached out and clasped Bilbo’s small hand in his own, noting that the once soft skin now carried calluses from their time on the road. Bilbo turned and started to pull Thorin down the dark, earthy corridor, but Thorin suddenly stopped, pulling him into his arms. It was only a few moments until Bilbo’s hands came up around Thorin and returned the embrace. Thorin took a moment to appreciate the closeness as he hadn’t when he had hugged the hobbit before. He took a deep breath, his nose buried in Bilbo’s curls, and smelled woodsmoke, earth, and the sweet pipe-weed that the hobbit seemed to prefer._

_He tried to memorize the feel of Bilbo’s body, how he fit so neatly into Thorin’s arms. Dwarf bodies were built to withstand hardship and physical labor. As a race they had been literally hewn from the mountain, and their bodies and lives reflected that. From the rock they came, to the rock they would return. But Bilbo’s body was soft, with no hard angles like his own._

_He wondered what it would be like to taste that soft skin._

_“How did you—” Thorin was at a loss for words._ How did you escape the spiders? How did you evade the elves? How did you find me?

            _Bilbo pulled away and grasped Thorin’s arms. “There’ll be time for that later,” he said firmly. “Right now we have to go.”_

_“But how? That weed-eater king seems to see everything that goes on in this cursed place,” he said darkly._

_“Don’t worry yourself. I have a plan.” Bilbo gave a broad smile that made Thorin’s heart stumble and grabbed his hand, pulling down the corridor. “Now, come!” he said._

_Thorin let himself be pulled along, the halfling’s small hand warm inside his own. Everything would be well. Bilbo had a plan._

~~~~~~~~~~

            When Major Baggins started to make his way towards the group, Thorin abruptly pulled back behind Kili and Bombur. He had never thought to see his burglar again. He had _longed_ to see him again, had tried to recall the exact scent of his hair, the feel of his hands, the sound of his voice. He had dreamed of speaking with him, long conversations where Thorin apologized for all he had done and was forgiven. Yes, the hobbit had forgiven Thorin on his deathbed, but to Thorin’s mind that was no comfort. Bilbo was a kindly soul, and Thorin could easily believe that the hobbit would have said anything out of pity, to ease Thorin’s passing.

            In short, it didn’t count.

            Now, though, faced with those eyes, that face. He was a frozen mess and could not have spoken if he tried. So he hid like a coward, letting the others do the talking. Fortunately, Ori’s brothers stepped up to inquire about him and Thorin was spared having to speak with him.

            Kili nudged Thorin’s arm. “You’ll have to talk to him eventually,” he whispered. Thorin tried to glare but feared that he was in no emotional state for such expressions, as Kili merely squeezed his arm sympathetically in response.

            “How is he?” Dori asked as soon as Bilbo reached them. He was taller, of course. They all were. His hair was short. And when Thorin looked closely he saw the man was clearly exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. Of course, he had been dealing with a huge influx of casualties for the past two weeks. It was a wonder if he got any sleep at all with the work load he had been under. The hobbit-- _not a hobbit in this life, fool,_ Thorin berated himself. _Bilbo_ turned to Dori, his face grave.

            “I had been told that he has brothers in the company. Are you…?”

            Dori nodded and Nori stepped forward. “Tell us the truth, doctor,” Nori said, his tone grim. “We can take it.”

            Bilbo sighed and rubbed his eyes. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I need to open him up and see what we’re dealing with. Our x-ray machine just recently broke and we’ve been working blind until they can get us a new one,” he sighed again. “With your permission, I’ll perform exploratory surgery, try to get out what I can, and we’ll take it from there, all right?”

            Dori shared a long, loaded look with Nori, and then turned back to Bilbo. “We understand. Please, do whatever you need to do for him.”

            Bilbo gave a sharp, firm nod before turning away and immediately calling for scrubs and nurses and equipment. There was a lot of commotion but a short time later they were set to perform surgery. As the company had refused to leave until they knew how Ori fared, they had been ushered to sit in a corner where they couldn’t get in the way.

            And then they waited. Kili stayed close to Thorin, but with the others so close they had no chance to talk without being overheard. Unfortunately, this left Thorin to wander within his own thoughts, a place that he wasn’t sure he wanted to be at the moment. Thorin gave a heavy sigh and let his head fall back against the fall with a soft _thunk_.

            _Bilbo…_ He hadn’t seemed to recognize any of them, so Thorin was fairly certain that he hadn’t regained his memories. Or that he ever would for that matter: Thorin was still at a loss to explain how he and Kili had remembered while the others had not. He could not begin to fathom it. He suspected that the wizard might have known, but that old stormcrow’s whereabouts were unknown. It was down to Thorin to deal with this, and somehow make everything right again.

            His eyes drifted to the screened off area where Bilbo was currently operating on Ori. Although there was no one else that he would have trusted with the task, Thorin knew that he was ultimately still responsible for Ori’s fate.

            Thorin closed his eyes and felt like the weight of the world, of _two_ worlds, were on his shoulders. He felt that he should have been happy to see Bilbo again, but the sight of the other man’s face only served to remind Thorin of his own mistakes.

~~~~~~~~~~

            _Thorin’s heart hammered in his chest as the thunderous roar of Smaug shook the mountain. He spun to stare with dread into the dark tunnels Bilbo had entered not long ago to confront the dragon. All that emerged was another terrible bellow that sent a shiver down his back. In a second, Thorin had unsheathed his sword and was racing into the darkness, heedless of the cries of his company to come back._

 _He could scarcely breathe as he ran, praying to Mahal that Bilbo was alive. Thorin felt like such a fool for letting the hobbit go down to confront that_ thing _by himself. But that had been why they brought a burglar along, no? And Bilbo had been so brave and reassuring and had all but talked Thorin into it._

_“That’s why I’ve been dragged along on this quest isn’t it?” Bilbo had huffed. “To scout things out and be sneaky.”_

_“But—”_

_“No, Thorin, not another word!” The hobbit crossed his arms and scowled up at the king under the mountain. “I said that I would help you to reclaim your home and that is exactly what I intend to do!”_

_And Thorin, faced with that stubborn strength, had let him._

_Now Thorin was hurtling through the passageways, trying to get to Bilbo before it was too late. Where is he, where is he, where—_

_Suddenly, turning a corner, he ran right into Bilbo, who had been flying from the opposite direction._

_“Thorin!” the hobbit exclaimed._

_But Thorin’s eyes were focused on the corridor behind the halfling, which was rapidly filling with flames. Thorin barely had time to grab Bilbo and shove him into a tiny passage to the side before the flames roared past. Thorin, trying his best to shield Bilbo with his body, felt the searing tongues of flame lick at his neck and heard the blast of dragonfire as it surged past. In that moment, he thought that all was lost. He would die here, in the kingdom that had once been his birthright. Bilbo clutched at Thorin and buried his head in the front of Thorin’s coat._

_But as quickly as they had appeared, the flames vanished. The dragon let out another roar, but it sounded further away this time. Then, silence._

_Cautiously Bilbo peeked up at Thorin. The hobbit’s face was dirty, his shining curls covered in soot from the dragonfire, and his green eyes were wide with fear. But he was alive._

_“Thorin? What—” but he never got a chance to finish._

_Surging forward, Thorin pinned Bilbo against the wall of the passage and claimed his lips in a searing kiss. A tiny part of him scolded his presumption, but the rest of him was consumed with the taste of Bilbo and did not care to listen. But in another moment, to his utter shock, Bilbo kissed him back._

_Moaning into Bilbo’s mouth, Thorin pressed him against the wall and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to spread the hobbit’s lips and explore. Bilbo responded in kind, gasping when they parted for breath and greedily seeking Thorin’s lips again._

_From the instant their lips met, Thorin was utterly lost. If someone had told him at the beginning of this quest that he would lose his heart so completely to this small creature, he would have thought them mad. But the thought of Bilbo getting hurt, the chance that Thorin would have to continue on without him…it was unbearable. So he poured his heart out in fevered kisses, murmuring endearments in Khuzdul because he couldn’t find the words in Westron._

_When they finally parted, breathing heavily, Thorin spoke first._

_“…forgive me.”_

_Bilbo froze against him for a moment before pulling back to look up into Thorin’s eyes._

_“Why?”_

_Thorin sighed lightly and let his head fall forward until his forehead was resting lightly on Bilbo’s own. “I should not have…” he shook his head. “I forgot myself.”_

_To Thorin’s surprise, Bilbo merely huffed and lightly pulled on one of Thorin’s braids. Thorin allowed Bilbo to pull the braid back until they were eye to eye. Rather than any of the emotions Thorin had thought to see on the hobbit’s face (disgust, anger, outrage) he was met only with that warm smile and eyes that sparkled with laughter._

_“Don’t apologize,” Bilbo said. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that since we stayed with Beorn.”_

~~~~~~~~~~

            Thorin came awake like a shot when a hand lightly shook him. Disoriented for a moment, his eyes darted around the room. Night must have fallen, as the lights had been dimmed and a hush had fallen over the hospital. He was startled to realize that he must have slept for several hours. His company were all asleep in their chairs as he had been not a moment before. He looked around to see who had woken him and almost jumped out of his skin to see that it was Bilbo.

            “I apologize for waking you,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to let you know that the surgery was very successful. There wasn’t nearly as much damage as I had originally thought, so there shouldn’t be any need for further procedures.”

            “And Ori?”

            Bilbo smiled. “Resting comfortably. He should be right as rain in a couple of weeks.”

            Thorin let out a long, slow breath. The weight that had been pressing on him since he had woken with his memories seemed a little lighter. Then he realized that Bilbo was still standing by his chair.

            “Thank you,” he said, and was thankful that his voice was steady. “Was there anything else?”

            Bilbo held up some bandages and a bottle of disinfectant. “You may not have noticed, but you’ve sustained an injury to your arm.”

            Thorin looked down and, sure enough, there was blood on his uniform. “It’s nothing,” he said immediately. “I’ll just be careful with it for a few days.” He tried to turn away but to his alarm Bilbo reached out and grabbed his arm. His injured arm. Thorin gave an involuntary wince and tried to pull away but Bilbo was surprisingly strong.

            “I’m a doctor,” he said firmly. “It’s _not_ nothing, and I’ll have a look at it _now_.” And that tone was so _Bilbo,_ Thorin could only nod mutely and let Bilbo bandage his arm.

            While the doctor was cutting away the sleeve away, Thorin had a chance to really look at him. He looked even more exhausted, if possible. But then again, he _had_ been performing surgery for the past few hours.

            “You should get some sleep,” he blurted before he could catch himself. Bilbo merely grunted and waved his hand dismissively.

            “Later. There’s really too much going on right now.”

            Thorin frowned. “I’m sure they can spare you for a few hours,” he replied.

            “Not really,” Bilbo replied. He bit his lip as he secured the bandage, his teeth worrying it until it was quite pink. Thorin colored and quickly looked away.

            “I’m the most senior officer here,” Bilbo continued. “And with the amount of casualties we’ve still got coming in…” he shook his head. “Sleep won’t be happening for a little while.”

            Bilbo had his head down, his concentration on what he was doing.

            “Captain,” Thorin said softly. Bilbo’s hands stilled and he raised his eyes to Thorin’s. Thorin reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Bilbo’s arm.

            “You’re no good to anyone if you let your sanity slip,” he said carefully. “All of these people trust you to know what to do. But if you start to fail, they will lose hope. You need to remain strong of will, and you can’t do that if you’re exhausted.” Thorin held Bilbo’s eyes for a long minute before Bilbo looked away.

            “I’ll…take your words into consideration,” he said, before gathering his supplies and moving away.

            Funny, for a moment Thorin almost wanted Bilbo to remember everything, to suddenly recognize Thorin and wrap his arms around him and fondly scold him for all of the wrongs he’d done or had yet to do.

            _Fool. If he regained his memories he would surely hate you for what you did to him. They would **all** hate you._

Thorin sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

            _He was breathing heavily, scrambling through the mud and snow. He had awoken with a jolt just minutes before, struggling to his feet, dizzy. What happened? Where was everyone?_

_The world was disturbingly quiet. He stood for a moment, listening to his own breath escape him in sharp gasps._

_He moved off, climbing down from the ruins and walking towards some stone steps._

_When he got to the top of them, he froze for a moment, before racing down the steps and dropping to his knees before the gasping, shuddering body of a dwarf._

_He had seen plenty wounded during this war. He had even seen folks killed._

_But this was Thorin Oakenshield. And then words were exchanged, but he could barely comprehend what was happening, because the only person he had or would ever love was dying in his arms._

_And then he wasn’t dying._

_He was dead._

~~~~~~~~~~

            Captain Bilbo Baggins, who had fallen asleep at his desk, woke with a start, gasping, with tears streaming down his face. He was confused and his eyes darted around the room. Someone was dying, someone…he needed to find, to get to…he felt a sharp and painful throbbing in his chest and throat, as if his heart was…

Breaking. Broken.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola! Sorry this took so long, guys. The past few weeks have been…yeah. I got laid off, so I’ve been scrambling around trying to find another one, and it’s been nuts. AND I’m working on another fic simultaneously (why, you ask? Because I’m a psychopath) so that doesn’t help. Plus I’m already slow as molasses when it comes to writing. 
> 
> BUT here it is. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will be up as soon as I can get it up. I’m going out of town in a few weeks so it might not be till after then, but don’t worry, I will finish this sucker. 
> 
> THANKS for all of your awesome reviews and kudos. You guys are awesome!!!!! My motivation sucks but you guys keep me writing. Special thanks to Corvinnia for finding the fan art that this was based on. May the Holy Trinity of LOTR (Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli) ever bless her.  
> http://myeviltwincorvinnia.tumblr.com/post/117656267149/evankart-dwarves-in-the-hobbit-modern-au-drawings#notes
> 
> ALSO I made a Bagginshield playlist that is pretty darn fancy if I do say so myself.  
> https://8tracks.com/lolitaxlolita/but-i-could-never-find-a-pen

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This is unfinished, and will probably remain that way. I sort of ran out of steam. It ends in a open-ended way that leaves the rest of the story up to the reader's imagination, so feel free to read and enjoy. If you would like to take this fic and run with it, be my guest. Just let me know so I can read it. :)


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